Crosswords and Coffee
by saoulbete
Summary: She wondered when, exactly, she became this. Downright domesticated. -c&c-
1. Crosswords and Coffee

A/N - This is the fic that started my whole Rizzles binge. Enjoy.

"Hey, Maur, did Gilbert and Sullivan ever write about a princess?" She didn't take her eyes off the paper, nibbling on the end of her pencil, in that perfect spot right below the metal bit that held the eraser in place, leaving a perfect ring of dental impressions as she slowly rotated the pencil.

"Yes, Ida." Maura didn't even look up from the vegetables she was chopping, preparing omlettes. It was amazingly how easily they'd fallen into _this._ Neither was quite sure what it was. It simply _was._ Neither of them pressed the issue, content with whatever it was they had. Somewhere along the way, Jane's apartment had been simply somewhere for her mail to go to, a storage space with a television. She'd even let her cable subscription lapse when it came time to renew it.

Somewhere along the way, she'd found that dinner and a movie, and staying over after having one too many glasses of wine had become a nightly thing, and she didn't even need the booze as an excuse. It just became a part of her routine. Go home, walk Jo, check the mail, go to Maura's. Then Jo had come over permanently, and two food dishes stood side by side in the kitchen. At some point in time, she'd even given up on the guest bed – the spare bedroom was really just more of a place for her to store her clothes than it was an actual living space. It was just more – comfortable to sleep in Maura's bed.

"How about a six-letter opera by Massey-something, about Greek myth?" A plate was slid in front of her as Maura leaned over her shoulder to peek at the crossword puzzle. Of course, the easy, obvious clues were filled in. _Wire_ under _What a Police Informant might wear_

"Ariane" Jane smiled slightly, filling in the appropriate letters, turning her head to give a distracted peck to Maura's lips.

"Thanks babe." She absentmindedly grabbed her fork, cutting off a bite of the omelet with the side of it without really looking at her plate. Maura paused for a second, the action going unnoticed by the detective as she filled in _To Err _under _"_ is human" _She watched Jane for a long moment as long, nimble fingers filled _Winona _into _Actress Ryder_ in Jane's tidy, yet scrawling, hand. It was legible, but messy, narrow, yet curvacious, jagged and soft all at once. Just like the hand that wrote it. It was everything _Jane._

The kiss had been a surprise, a new development, but yet one that felt entirely natural. It was, after all, not unheard of for two people as close as she and Jane were to share such chaste kisses and symbols of affection. After all, Jane had moved in to her house, for all intents and purposes, and she'd found herself moving much of her errata into Jane's old apartment. The place, the last time she had been in there, resembled a warehouse far more than it resembled someone's living space. They shared a bed, the only nights where she found herself sleeping alone were ones where the detective was working on a case where the bodies had already been autopsied, processed, and sent to their respective funeral homes.

And she found that she didn't sleep as easily these days when the other half of her bed was empty. _No,_ she corrected herself silently, sitting down at her own place at the table, _when Jane's not there._ They'd both had relationships since their change in living arraignments, but nothing had worked out for either of them. There was always some reason that things never seemed to progress past the third date. Jane muttered some excuse about none of them being Casey, and Maura found little things that made each man she'd been with wholly unsuitable mates. And even when she had woken next to one of them, she didn't feel as comfortable as she did when she woke up next to Jane.

"Five letters, Gathering place in Athens." she paused, collecting up their plates. Unsurprisingly, Jane has finished her omelet in what had seemed like one giant bite, even though Maura knew better. She leaned over a shoulder, looking at the letters already filled in. "Agora." She proclaimed, catching a familiar, but initially unplaceable scent. "You've been using my shampoo."

"Yeah. Smells good." She smiled slightly to herself, looking over the other clues in the puzzle. Somewhere along the way, her life had veered slightly from where she had imagined it going, and she found herself not minding in the least. So she wasn't married, wasn't globetrotting, in fact she'd hadn't left Boston in almost a year.

"You want to go on vacation?" She asked, more pondering aloud than actually asking a question. "And I think you've got fifty-across wrong."

"No it's not."

"Well, considering that fifty down is Alai-" Jane swore, realizing that Maura was right and flipped the pencil over, slowly erasing the words.

"Vacation?" She questioned looking up at where Maura was still leaning over her shoulder. "Where?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far in advance."

"Well tell me when you figure it out so I can make sure that there's someone to babysit Korsak and Frost." She paused, attempting to ponder out a clue before realizing that her gut instinct was correct and _Goose_ was in fact _One taking a gander_. Getting away from the frigid Boston winter would certainly be nice. All thoughts of sunbathing and mojitos were interrupted, however, by the front door opening, and her mother barging in.

"Good morning ladies!" Angela Rizzoli was far too chipper for six in the morning.

"Ma, what the fuck are you doing here so early?"

"Language, Jane." Both of the blondes recited in unison, pausing to laugh at the moment.

"Actually, I don't think this is much of a laughing matter. Maura, honey, I think the pipes to the guest house froze. There's no hot water. Or cold water either. Tommy's on his way, but I figured you wanted to know."

"Oh no. Is there any flooding?"

"Not that I noticed. Think the only problem is, this sort of thing takes a day or two to fix. Can I borrow your shower?" Maura simply nodded, while Jane sighed.

"Ma, you can shower at the apartment, and if you need to stay there, you can."

"What, and kill myself over all that junk? I swear, ever since you moved in here Janie, you've let that place fall apart. I don't understand why you won't just let Frankie sublet it." There was a tense moment as the sudden realization of exactly what things had become hit her, but it passed just as suddenly as it came.

"Only if he's willing to clean it." She mutters, returning back to fill in _Steaks_ under _Porterhouses, for __one._

"Angela, you are more than welcome to stay in the spare bedroom here until Tommy can fix the pipes to the guest house."

"Thank you Maura." She doesn't even need to look up from where she's giving Doonesbury a pencil goatee and moustache, pondering the rest of the clues to feel her mother's sharp stare, though she's not quite sure what its for. She didn't even know her mother had known she'd sort of moved in. _She_ hadn't known she'd moved in. She'd always thought of it as just – an extended sleepover. A sleepover that was going on six months. "At least one of you girls knows how to treat a poor old lady right."

"Ma, you're not old." She knows its just what her mother wants to hear to stop Angela from pestering her while working on the crossword. Especially not when she was _thisclose_ to having finished the New York Times one. There were, she supposed, upsides to spending most of her free time with the walking Wikipedia.

"Well I'm certainly feeling that way with no little grandchildren around to make me feel younger." It's only Maura's calming hand on her shoulder that prevents her from throwing her pencil at the retreating form of her mother.

"Why does she always have to do that?" It's muttered under her breath, but she can _feel_ Maura's slight smile at her exasperation.

"It's natural for mothers to want to see their children happy. Your mother simply believes that a family and children are the path to happiness."

"You'd think she'd start pestering Tommy or something. He's the one with the girlfriend." She choked over the word. Candi wasn't exactly what she would call a great, stable influence on her fuckup little brother, but Tommy was, apparently head over heels for the stripper. No, _exotic dancer. _And Candi, to her credit, seemed to love him back.

Maura said noting, choosing instead to start rinsing the dishes from their breakfast, not wanting to point out the way that Angela had looked at her as well as Jane when she mentioned grandchildren. There was a certain something about it that made Maura think that the Rizzoli matron subconsciously viewed her and Jane as a couple. She had to admit, the similarities to what she and Jane had and a traditional married couple were quite striking. They shared a bed, and most breakfasts and dinners together. They had found a sort of harmony between them as to which one would cook dinner on which night, without ever having to discuss it. They understood each other – how the other one thought, what they other one was thinking without either ever having to speak. And, she mused, she felt as though she and Jane complimented each other. There was something about her best friend that brought out a certain side of her that she hadn't thought she'd had, and she knew she did the same for Jane – she'd been told as much.

"Hey you know any of the rest of these? Don't worry about those, you cooked, I'll get the dishes." There was a distracted tone to the way she spoke, the crossword puzzle far more pressing at this moment than any household chore. Maura dried her hands on the towel hung there, making her way back to where she'd been standing moments before, head resting on Jane's shoulder as she contemplated the remaining clues.

"Really, Jane, I'm surprised you haven't figured out seven down." Her eyes traveled to the clue, and she scowled, realizing that she'd skipped straight past it, filling in the _ust_ to complete the rest of the seventh deadly sin.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked teasingly as she filled in another word.

"I thought that good catholic upbrining would have taught you about the mortal sins, especially lust." There was something running beneath the friendly commentary as they worked together on the puzzle. Jane was vaguely aware of an arm wrapped comfortably around her waist, of Maura's warm breath against her ear, and thought of how cozy it was. There was something more to it, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. More than just the playful banter that they usually exchanged, something deeper.

"Well, it taught me that Elvis' mother couldn't spell" as she filled in the answer to _The King's middle name._

"And 34 down would be G-spot." Maura pointed to the last empty spot in the puzzle, a handful of unsolved words in the middle, trailing a finger along the empty boxes. There was a certain _thingness_ in the way that she said it, that surprised both of them. But Jane dutifully filled it in, along with the words that crossed it, now much more easier to puzzle out. Maura slowly pulled away, now that the crossword puzzle was completed, busying herself with the remainders of the morning routine. Ensuring that both Jo and Bass had fresh food and water, that everything else was _just so, _so that they wouldn't have to worry about anything more than getting dressed and ready for the day.

Jane found herself staring at the op ed column on the reverse of the crossword puzzle, attempting to read someone's complaint about politics in America and failing to let any of it sink in. There was the distinct feeling that she was missing something. It was her least favorite feeling, as though all of the pieces were there, but she couldn't quite make them fit. The gears in her mind were turning over and over again, and she couldn't help as though there were teeth missing in the gears – not quite fitting together right, like she was _thisclose_ to making a breakthrough, and she couldn't figure out what it was, or even what it was about. It would be one thing if there was a case she'd been working on, but it'd been a slow week for deaths in Boston, the most she'd been called out for was an obvious suicide that only had her out at the scene as protocol. Then the feeling of not quite putting it all together would at least have had a source. But this? She couldn't place why she was feeling like she did.

She sighed, stretching as she started on the dishes, staring out into the yard. Jo was out there barking at something, romping around in the thin coat of snow on the ground, and seemingly having the time of her life. The little dog was just so happy here with a yard where she could roam free without having to worry about the confines of a leash, and Jane had to admit she was happy here too. It was nice, to wake up next to someone rather than wake up alone. She liked waking up next to Maura, it felt _right_. She'd loved Casey, she'd cared for Dean, but even as much as she loved Casey, it wasn't the same waking up next to him. The dynamics were different – and while she was sure she would have gotten used to waking up next to him, she couldn't help but think that they would never have filled into this sort of easy morning routine that she had.

She groaned as she realized that she'd become downright _domesticated._ Standing here doing the dishes,watching her dog play in the yard, feeling like she was home. .Calamity Jane the Untamable had become a domesticated little housecat, willing to do the dishes, and eat things where she wasn't quite sure what was in them, just because she was told they would be good. The one thing that she never thought she would be, she was. And she was strangely all right with that. She was surprisingly willing to put up with all of Maura's quirks, willing to share a domicile with a goddamned _tortoise._ To know what the difference between a turtle and a tortoise was.

She stuck the now-clean dishes in the drying rack, opening up the back door so that Jo could come back inside. Scritching the little terrier behind the ears before heading into the bedroom, she paused, eying the way that Maura had laid out everything for the morning. There were two outfits, laying side by side, and part of her wanted to be upset that Maura had picked something out for her, and part of her was glad that she doesn't have to decide it. Once upon a time, she would have hated having her outfits picked out for her, but by now, it's become almost second nature. Besides, Maura's the one with the fashion sense, it's reasonable to defer to her.

She heard the shower start in the guest bathroom and relaxed back against the headboard in the master bed, flipping through the rest of the front page of the _Times_ while waiting for one shower to open up. It's partway through the headline under the fold that her mother walked out of the shower, talking to her as though it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Janey, honey, when are you going to put a r-" She cut her mother off mid-sentence with a toss of a t-shirt at the older woman. She couldn't have cared less about any woman who was exposing parts that she hadn't wanted to see since she was nineteen months old was saying.

"Ma, I don't care if you're telling me the world is about to end, I'm not going to listen to it until you put some damn clothes on." She got a scowl in response, but Angela quickly retreated back to the bathroom to change, reemerging in a slightly-too-tight tee shirt, and what Jane was fairly sure were her basketball shorts. It took her a moment to realize that when her mother had come over, that she hadn't exactly been carrying anything. Her frown deepend as her phone buzzed, reflecting a message from her little brother telling her to open up the damned guest house so that he could fix the pipe. She didn't think to put on a coat for such a short walk, and she regretted it the second she opened the door.

It felt like the hundred yard walk was the better part of an hour with the wind whipping up, and she cut off any comment Tommy wanted to make about her lack of outerwear with a sharp glare. She opened the front door for him, frowning at the way that Tommy marched to the sink, turned the water on, and got nothing. Opening up the under sink cabinet, he found it to be dry, and traced the water line to where it seemed to run sideways, behind the small pantry, and towards the bedroom. She groaned as she could feel the floor starting to dampen. "I'm gonna have to knock the wall down." She shook her head, retreating away from the scene. "What, you don't want to join in on the Rizzoli family business?" She shot Tommy a look, turning towards the door.

"You better do it right, Tommy. I'll be checking! If we have to call someone to fix your fuckup, that's coming out of your pocket. I better not see any duct tape on there."

"Relax, sis. If there's one thing a Rizzoli can do, it's fix a leaky pipe." She shot one last furtive glance at where the water was beginning to discolor the wall. She gave her brother one last glare, not liking the smirk he was wearing.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing." There was something entirely too—happy about the smirk her brother was giving her, and she had the distinct feeling that there was money up on something. What it was, she couldn't quite discern, but she had a good feeling that by the end of the day, she'd be getting her own cut of it. She'd yet to bet the target of a bet where she didn't manage to talk her way into at least a decent chunk of the payout.

She jogged back to the house, trying to figure out just what had Tommy smirking so badly. She'd meant what she said about making him pay for any failed repairs. Even though she knew they could afford a real plumber, it was just the idea of having to have something done twice. She grudgingly put up with Maura's tut-tutting about how she was likely to catch frostbite if she did something like that again when it was in the single digits out, put up with the way that her hands had been snatched, and rubbed and checked for any signs of discoloration, and headed to the shower herself, smiling to herself as she realized that she had been using Maura's shampoo, and she liked it. When she'd catch the faint whiff her hair running after a suspect, or just when she ran her hand through it, as she pondered paperwork, it made her feel calm. Content.

And there was a small part of her that was downright _afraid _of that. Of the very idea of feeling calm and content with another person. But this was Maura. It wasn't like she was dating Maura. They were just best friends. She sighed, as she replayed her conversation with Tommy. Somewhere along the way, the guest house that her mother lived in had become _their_ guest house. She was sure that she'd heard Maura describe the place as having a 'Mother-in-law-suite' at some point in time. Somewhere she'd started thinking in terms of what _they_ could do. Somewhere, _she_ had multiplied into a duo, and she now thought of everything in terms of both her and Maura. Somewhere, they'd fallen into this sort of pseudo-relationship _thing_ and the worst part was that she didn't want it to change.

It was only Maura's pounding on the door, reminding her that they were cutting it close with rush hour traffic if they wanted to be able to stop for good coffee on the way in to work that cut her out of her reverie. She swore under her breath, rinsing the conditioner out of her hair and wrapping herself in a nice, fluffy towel as she stepped out of the shower, getting dressed in an outfit that she was sure hadn't been part of her wardrobe before, but she really didn't care. If Maura had decided to expand her wardrobe, and it looked halfway decent, she was fine with that.

Quickly brushing her hair, teeth, and making sure she looked at least presentable, she headed out towards the garage, where Maura was already waiting, applying the last bits of her makeup with a practiced ease, leaning against the passenger door of their car. She wondered, briefly, why Maura hadn't gotten in, but a quick check of her cell phone and just how low they _were_ running on time erased any thoughts of anything but getting in the car and going.

It was amazing how quickly she'd gotten used to driving Maura's Prius. She'd never wanted to drive the car, but now that she found herself doing it more often than not, she had grown to love the little car. It was, actually, better than her own, and not only in gas milage. It simply made sense to take the Prius in to work. And considering that she was never particularly fond of being of the passenger seat for anyone's driving – even Maura – they'd fallen into the easy routine of Jane driving them into work every day in the little Toyota.

After their usual stop by the Cappuchino Cabin on the way to work – the baristas there knowing their usual order and having it ready for them, so it was a simple pop in, pay, and pop back out again, they slid into the station with a mere two minutes to spare – just enough time for Maura to head down to the morgue. "Have a good day." She found herself saying, and found herself leaning in and placing her lips lightly against Maura's cheek before she even realized it.


	2. An Old Married Couple

A/N thank you all soo, sooo, sooo very much for all the kind words you left on chapter one of this. There's one more part, that is mostly just gratuitous first time sex, that should be up somtime later today or tomorrow - the middle, as usually was the sticky part that was the hardest to write. Seriously, if you look at the drafts for this, it's changed like 15 times.

* * *

"Have a good day." She found herself saying, and found herself leaning in and placing her lips lightly against Maura's cheek before she even realized it.

"You too." Was Maura's response as she turned to head down to the morgue, before Frankie cut her off, coming out of the elevator before she could get in.

"Well, isn't it everyone's favorite old married couple."

"Can it, Frankie." She shot her brother an icy stare, the same sort that she gave to suspects across the table in the interrogation room.

"But we're not married." Leave it to Maura to point out the very obvious fact.

"You might as well be. Look at you two. You fight like an old married couple, you act like an old married couple, you guys – you know who you guys remind me of? The Collabros from up the street – y'know Janie, Chrissie and Robbie's parents?" She groaned. She couldn't help it. She remembered the couple all too well. And the worst part, the biggest sinking feeling in her gut was that he was right. She and Maura _were_ just like the Collabros. Close as hell, but with no spark between them. She was fairly sure that the Collabros were the inspiration for the Brady Bunch, even going as far as to sleep in separate beds. She used to wonder how two people like that could be married for so long – it wasn't until she was older that she recognized the tension there, the undercurrent of wondering and jealous animosity that was hidden to a ten year old, but plain to see to anyone over fifteen.

"So you're trying to say I'm trapped in a sexless marriage Frankie?" Before the conversation had any chance of turning into more of an argument between the siblings, three phones rang simultaneously, calling them all out to a dead convenience store owner. It was easy, open-shut. Robbery gone wrong, caught entirely on camera, the hardest part had been trying to work the archaic VCR that recorded it all. No mask, no gloves, prints all over the place – it took a matter of two hours to collect the suspect from the same crack house he had been living in before his last stint in the joint for robbery.

She stopped by the morgue once the perp had talked, not even bothering to ask for a lawyer. The only thing a lawyer would be good for was negotiating down from a twenty-to-life to a fifteen-to-fifty, since there was no doubting that he did it. She was surprised to see Maura looking somewhat distracted, staring off at some point in the distance. "Maura?" She asked, genuinely concerned as to what could have her best friend looking that preoccupied. "Everything ok?"

"Hmm?" She'd been lost in thought, ever since the autopsy had been completed. It was easy enough. Three bullet wounds, death by exsanguination of an otherwise unremarkable fifty year old man. But instead, she found herself replaying the exchange they'd had with Frankie. Was that how Jane viewed their relationship? A sexless marriage? She contemplated the idea. Jane was certainly attractive – there was no denying that. They already fit together so well. And it wasn't as though she was averse to the idea. The last few men she'd dated, while things had been pleasurable, something had just felt wrong, like she wasn't being fair to them because deep down, she knew that she'd never care about them the way that they'd want to be cared about. It had felt almost like she was cheating on a relationship she didn't even know she was in.

"You seem a little distracted. Is everything all right?" There was a long pause, which did nothing to help with Jane's concern.

"What did you mean with that comment earlier, that you were trapped in a loveless marriage?" She was shocked for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

"What, you mean Frankie's quip about us being like the Collabros?" She responded, the exchange still standing out in her mind. She wondered why it had Maura so concerned, and there was a little part of her that was sending icy tendrils around her stomach. "And it was sexless marriage, not loveless marriage." It's added as an afterthought, something that she didn't even realize she said until she'd said it, and she wants to bury her head in her hands for how it comes out. Part of her was saying run, and run as far and as fast away from this situation as possible. Part of her was saying that there was no possible way that this could end well, but the majority of her was saying to stay put, and see where this led.

Maura's head gave that adorable little questioning tilt it did when Maura didn't quite understand the nuances of something that was not sciency. "They – like – you could tell that they weren't happy without the whole sex thing. They were too much good Catholics to cheat, but you could tell they wanted to just because they weren't getting any at home. It was like they felt obligated to be with one another. They never said anything about it – but you spent time there, you could tell. It just felt – claustrophobic to be around them."

"Do you feel trapped?" She fought the urge to groan out load.

"What? Maura, no! I don't feel trapped when I'm with you. I feel – I feel - " she suddenly found herself lost as to just how she felt for Maura.

"Feel what, Jane?"

"I feel – happy when I'm with you. I feel the opposite of trapped. It's – I can be myself around you and not have to worry about you judging me for my sarcastic comments. I can hang out on the couch in a tank top and boxers and not be judged for being all manly and shit. I love spending time with you, I love wakingup in the morning and seeing you there. I love it when you cook me breakfast and you put up with the crap I make for dinner. I love sitting on the couch and watching terrible movies and listening to you make fun of them with me. I love – this." _I love you_ she thinks, wondering where exactly the thought comes from. She's never analyzed what it was they had. They had what they had, and she liked it, and she didn't want it to change. She would give anything for it not to change.

She knows why she hasn't analyzed their relationship. Because the idea of what they have – it scares the shit out of her. She knows that what they have is far deeper than the friendship they pretend it is. This – this is real. This is love, and she knows it is, and she's scared of that. She thought she loved Casey, but this – this is much deeper and stronger than that. The idea of a relationship is still a foreign sort of thing. It's not like she's never thought of Maura in that way – there had been the odd fantasy of what it would be like to do things – after all, fantasies were natural, and she'd never given it a second thought.

"Do you think that's what we are? In a sexless marriage?" She shrugged. Honestly, going back and looking at it – that was what they had. They were together every day and every night, and for all intents and purposes _were_ married. Which might have explained why the last few guys she'd dated had left her with a distinctly – guilty feeling. She hadn't quite known what it was then, but now, analyzing it in the light of all of this, that's what it was. She'd felt like she was cheating. None of them were quite what she had wanted.

"Kinda?" It's the only thing she can think of, her previous rant seemingly having stole all the words she could say. "I mean, look at us. Frankie's right. We fight like an old married couple, we spend all our time together. We, well, yeah. There's everything but the sex."

"And do you feel – obligated?"

"No. I mean, besides, it's not like we haven't y'know – had, guys and stuff." It's almost cute how flustered she is. This is not a conversation she'd ever thought she'd be having. If you'd told her a week ago that she'd be sitting here, seriously considering diving headfirst into the shallow end and be sitting here talking to Maura and realizing that she had somewhere along the line started to actually sit down and analyze their relationship, she'd have looked at you as though you'd skipped straight past two, three and four and were looking at her with five heads.

"Jane, how did you feel when I was seeing Bradley?" Maura asked, having noticed the difference in Jane when the Princeton professor was in town.

"I felt-" She paused, trying to put a word to the emotions she had felt. "I-I _hated_ it. It was like – everything had been flipped upside down. It just – I – I" She faltered for a moment, trying to find some sort of word for it. She had felt absolutely terrible – she'd been sexiled from her own home. She'd hated the thought that someone was in _her_ house, in _her_ bed with _her_ Maura. She hadn't quite been able to figure out what that feeling was, but now, now in light of everything else, she knew. "I was fucking jealous." She takes Maura's reproachful look at her swearing and does her best to look appropriately sorry for it.

"Jane, I enjoy what we have together, but I also need the physical as well. If you're going to get jealous if I seek that elsewhere -" She felt something icy suddenly wrap around her stomach that suddenly made it very hard to breathe. That sounded dangerously like an ultimatum, and she wasn't quite sure what she wanted, but whatever it was, she was going to go with whatever option kept Maura in her life. Because somewhere along the way, Maura had become her life. And she would do anything – anything at all – to keep Maura in it.

"So you're saying to put out or shut up?" She let her grin and sarcasm take over, a natural defence against the conflict of emotions welling inside of her. The only one that kept winning out was that she wasn't going to lose Maura. She didn't care what it would take, she wasn't sure she _could_ lose Maura. It was bad enough when they fought, to risk losing her forever, especially to someone else, was something that made her chest feel decidedly tight.

"I wasn't going to put it quite that way, but yes. I love what we have, I love _this._ I love_ you_, and you're always going to be the one that I am closest to emotionally, but-"

"You need the physical too. I get it. You're not a robot. Just promise me something?"

"What?"

"I don't care how hard it is for you to do it, lie and tell me I'm good in bed."


	3. It May Not be Good, but it's Right

A/N - I think I managed to wrangle this all into the same verb tense. Please let me know if I slipped up. And again, thank you all so very, very much for the wonderful, warm words you've left on the first two parts of this. this is where this fic ends (and it ends on a gratuitous smut scene, surprise, surprise) but Like a Horse and Carriage is a sequel to this, as is Jane, Maura, and the Swamp Monster, and there's more coming in this adorable fluffy little series that is so much fun to write. Thank you all again - I am eternally grateful to have discovered such a wonderful group of people who all love writing two hot chicks getting it on. ;)

* * *

"I don't care how hard it is for you to do it, lie and tell me I'm good in bed." She hadn't expected the grin she got in response to her sarcastic comment, and somehow, she felt _relieved_. That this was somehow the right thing to do, that this was what she was supposed to be doing, and now that she was finally doing it, it was as though a yoke she didn't know she was wearing had been removed from her.

"So, what do you say to getting out of here so I can test my lying skills?" She grinned, helping Maura up from the chair, and letting their fingers intertwine as they headed out to the car. This felt – _right. _It felt like what she was supposed to be doing, that this was something that she had been waiting for and now she finally had it. But it didn't mean she wasn't nervous. She'd never done this before. This was unknown, uncharted territory. This was another woman, this was a relationship that had existed well before the sex, this was _Maura._ What if she was terrible at the whole sex thing? Maura had just admitted that she needed something physical as well, and Jane wasn't sure she could stand it if Maura slept with other men.

It had taken her entirely longer than it should have to come to the realization, but she was very firmly convinced that she loved Maura. That this was what their relationship had slowly been building up to, to entwine them together forever. She'd just been too stubborn and hardheaded to realize it. She. Loved. Maura. In the entirely soppy _never shall we part, forever yours, you're my specific dream rabbit _ sort of sense. And it sort of terrified her. She'd never loved anyone before, not like this. Sure, she loved Tommy and Frankie and her mother, but that was different. She was obligated to love them. Maura, though had just sort of fallen into her life and refused to leave, and she didn't want her to leave.

The drive home was silent, save for the radio humming out Springsteen's _Cover Me, _which wasn't helping her nerves at all. Especially not when it was followed up by Barry White. She wanted to throw something at whoever had programmed the station, glad for a commercial break to save herself from thinking about what she was about to do. The less she thought about, the less nervous she would be. She stole a glance across the car to catch Maura doing the same thing, surprised to see the other woman blush slightly before looking away.

When they finally got home, she found that her nerves were getting the better of her. She fumbled with the keys, and was surprised at Maura's down-to-business sort of attitude over everything, gently grasping her hand and tugging her in the direction of the bedroom. She found herself standing in the doorway, staring as Maura unzipped her dress, slowly easing out of it.

"Well – uh -" She wasn't quite sure what to do. Sure, she'd always thought of Maura as beautiful, but she'd spent so long trying to ignore the odd thought, the odd pang of _want_ that would course through her whenever an attractive woman walked past that she didn't quite know what to do with herself now that she didn't have to pretend to herself that those feelings didn't exist. She'd spent all of her life trying to not be the stereotype of the female lesbian cop that now that she was presented with an absolutely beautiful woman that she was _supposed_ to be doing something with, she was lost.

"Jane, are you nervous?" The words sounded incredulous, but the slight smirk on Maura's face said that the doctor was fully sure of what she was doing.

"Not nervous – just -"

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No – I want to." She took a step forward, reaching out a tentative hand to trace along a wonderfully flat stomach, soft and pliant and smooth. "I want this." She stepped forward, tilting her head down for a slow and gentle kiss. It wasn't the sort of thing that romance novels made it out to be. It wasn't the sort of head swimming and fireworks and drums pounding in her head that the collection of romance novels she had carefully tucked behind her true crime hardcovers on her meager bookshelf made kissing one's true love to be. But it was better than all that. True, there was no sudden rush of passion, or lust, or anything – but this felt _right. _

It felt like this was something she was supposed to be doing. Like this was where she was supposed to be, right here, tentatively kissing her best friend. It was far from perfect, noses and teeth got in the way as they tried to shift positions, a soft gasp when a nibble to a lower lip became just a bit to hard, and the moment of trying to figure out where everybody's limbs went to be comfortable. It wasn't Jane's most awkward kiss – that one went to Paulie from the sixth grade when their braces got tangled together – but it definitely was not the sort of thing that movies made it out to be.

They stood there for a long moment, adjusting to the kiss. Once they got everything sorted and there were no noses, teeth, or hands in the way, it actually was quite nice. Not all that different from what she was used to with men, but softer, gentler. She let her hands gently start exploring – trailing a line down Maura's back. It was odd, she already felt as though she knew every inch of Maura's skin, but she'd never touched it in this way before. She'd always known that the spot at the back of Maura's neck, where her shoulders joined her back, where that one single vertebrae stuck out, was exceptionally sensitive – whenever she'd helped with necklaces, annoying zippers, she'd seen how it'd always elicited a shiver. Now was no different. Only now, the shiver wasn't just a byproduct of touch, the shiver was because _she_ was touching _her._

She took her time, gently exploring, enjoying the soft gasps and whimpers she was dragging forth. This was, well, it wasn't at all what she had expected, but she was liking it. She trailed her lips down Maura's jugular, enjoying the feel of the pulse beneath her lips speeding up as she nipped gently over it. She reached up to cup a breast, surprised at how soft and heavy they were. "Just – uh - "She paused, pulling the soft skin above a nipple between her teeth, close enough to tease, but not close enough to give any relief, "Just tell me if I need to do anything different." She backed them towards the bed, fumbling with Maura's bra. _So this is what a sixteen year old boy feels like_ she mused, as she found the item extremely difficult to remove. It was different, trying to unhook it from this angle.

She laid them back on the bed, slowly kissing her way down from a pale, perfect neck, pausing to suck lightly at each nipple, before kissing her way down a trim, perfect stomach. "Believe me, nothing is -" Whatever Maura was going to say was swallowed up in a gasp as she bit down on a hip bone. She found herself slowly pulling off a pair of lace panties, watching in awe at the way they slid down perfectly smooth legs.

She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do, but she knew what she _wanted_ to do, and she placed a kiss to that spot in the surprisingly dark hair – dark enough to make Jane question whether or not Maura was a bottle blond -that was begging for her touch. She flitted out an experimental tongue, tracing along the slit, feeling Maura shudder above her. The taste was different, but not unpleasant, and she gave another curious lick, much like a dog – not exactly a precision strike, but a long lick from somewhere beneath her opening to the top of it, tasting everything, getting a feel for where everything was.

She felt a hand tangle in her hair, very pointedly keeping her where she was. She gave another tentative lick before her tongue zeroed in on that nub that stuck out, laving it over and over again as she felt a pair of surprisingly strong hips buck up into her. She bit down gently, letting her teeth brush over Maura's clit, was surprised at just how violent of a reaction she got, with Maura's hips suddenly jutting up to meet where she was, and a shudden sharp gasp of her name. "You like this?" She asked, looking up at Maura.

"Please don't stop." She hadn't planned on it, but the encouragement certainly helped as she swirled her tongue around, letting it slip inside Maura. This was new. This was different. But it was not at all unpleasant. She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to be doing, but somehow, things seemed to be going well. At least, Maura wasn't pulling away and kicking her out, at any rate. She sucked gently, feeling the fingers in her hair tighten.

It was odd, she'd never liked it when a man had done that to her – tangle their fingers in her hair and control her pace, but with Maura – with Maura it was different. She didn't know what it was, but the hands in her hair seemed to say _I don't want this to stop_ instead of _I want you to do this my way. _And now that she'd gotten a taste of Maura, she was content to never stop.

It was a different sort of taste, but she was already in love with it, just knowing that it was _Maura._ She was sure if it was anyone else, it would not taste as sweet. But this was Maura, _her_ Maura, and she tasted delicious. She grinned, and the grin brightened as it elicited another hum of pleasure, before she turned her tongue back to the little raised bundle of nerves. She swiped her tongue around in an approximation of the narrow _J_ that started her signature. She continued on with the _a-n-e_ and paused before starting the _C _due to the sudden wild buck of Maura's hips. She reached up out of instinct, holding Maura down, running a calming hand across a quivering stomach, and continued her signature across Maura's clit. "Jane!" Maura was reduced to gasping moans and shouts, and she likes that. She likes knowing that she's reduced the normally loquacious genius to one-syllable words.

The hands in her hair tightened again and she knew Maura was close. She wracked her brain for all the things that she knows she enjoys in moments like this, all the things that past boyfriends have done to get her just _there_ and then wondered why the hell she's thinking of her exes at a time like this. She reached up with her right hand, her left still holding down Maura's hips, and slowly slipped in two fingers, all while sucking hard on that bundle of nerves. She was glad she was smart enough to keep a hand on Maura's hips, because if she didn't, she was sure she'd have a broken nose.

She could feel the sudden contraction around her fingers, and suddenly felt rather as though she was in one of those sensory deprivation chambers as two thighs clamped around her ears. The only thing that she could think, feel, smell, hear, see, was Maura. And that thought alone, being there, hearing her name come from Maura's lips – it was enough to have her right on edge herself, rocking against the bed trying to find some sort of friction to relieve the ache between her legs.

She slowly, gently, placed laving kisses to Maura's slit, feeling the body below her relax completely. Once the shudders, the aftershocks still, she dared to lift her head up, suddenly feeling very aware of herself and what they had just done. She's almost afraid to move from her spot, afraid that if she left this nice, warm, comforting place she's going to get told that this just isn't going to work, and it's time to go back to her crappy little apartment, and all this would be for naught.

She felt a hand lazily tangle with the one that's resting on a hip, gently tugging her up. She slowly crawled up the bed, relieved to see a lazy grin across Maura's face. She likes the way that Maura rolls towards her, burying a blond head against her neck, wrapping an arm around her waist. She doesn't like, however, the sleepy look in Maura's face when she can still feel her own need between her legs. She was wound up, on the edge, and she found herself undoing her pants, sliding them down, wondering how they wound up in this state with her still clothed.

She slips a hand between her legs and hears Maura mumble something against her neck. "Mine." She heard, coming from a very sleepy-voiced Maura and found her hand being pulled away to be replaced by Maura's. Somewhere, in some corner of the back of her mind, she wants to know where the hell Maura's learned whatever it is that hand is doing, because it's absolutely wonderful, there's all kinds of thrusting and rubbing and she can hear herself whimpering, so close to the edge. "All mine." Maura repeats, and it's the sudden application of teeth to her neck that has her suddenly shouting, feeling the world suddenly narrow to a single point of pleasure.

She relaxed back, surprisingly enjoying the sudden possessive post-coital Maura. There was an arm wrapped around her waist and a leg thrown across hers, pinning her in place. She smiled, attempting to find some way to pull the covers that they're laying on top of over them, before deciding that they're just fine the way they are. So it hadn't been the most romantic sex of her life, it hadn't been the most mindblowing, she still had her shirt on, her pants were tangled up in her ankles, and they're laying there spread diagonally across the bed. But this felt _right._ Like she was designed to fit just _there,_ and Maura was designed to fit perfectly against her, and that they were made to be there with each other. Besides, they had forever in front of them to practice this whole sex thing, and people did say that practice made perfect.


End file.
